Runaway Dreams
by Lilas Lion
Summary: TF Prime. Farewell, take care. Those were her final words to the sparkling. Looking back on it, Arcee was shattered. But, it had to be done. It needed to be done. Even if it broke her spark.
1. Prologue

_Greetings, everyone!_

 _First off this is my first ever Transformers Fic._

 _This is intended to be a one-shot. Nothing more, nothing less. It depends on the reactions on if I'll continue or not, so if you wish for thus to continue then review, done deal. Just tell me your own view of this one-shot and if I need to update anything, then please do tell._

 _ **Disclaimer:**_ _I don't own anything but the plot and OC's._

 _Other than that I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

 **Prologue**

* * *

The lingering light was obliterated by the rapidly falling night. The once salmon and purple sky transformed into a vast expanse of jet-black that engulfed the world. A canopy of luminous stars materialized amongst the ocean of blackness. Some were dull, merely flickering into existence every now and then, but there was an adequate amount of shimmering stars to illuminate the dark, moonless night.

Below the alluring night sky was a metallic plain. It was wide and vast and went on as far as the eye could see. There was no movement whatsoever, and everything was completely quiet.

Then, all of a sudden, the sound of footsteps echoed throughout the plains. The one who caused such a racket belonged to none other to the blue-painted and pink-ridged, Arcee. And In her arms was a tiny sparkling.

The sparkling appeared to be small and fragile, but quite still and beautiful to look upon. With a luscious silver finish, blue ridges and large crimson eyes, Arcee couldn't find a single flaw with the sparkling.

Abruptly, the tiny cybertronian began to cry. It didn't even sound like it was pausing long enough to breathe. Surely, it'd have to either stop or pass out soon. But the screaming went on, so Arcee stopped dead in her tracks and tenderly whispered, "hush little one there's no need to cry." She tried the best to her ability to the calm the small thing, and to her relief it stopped crying.

In its place, the crying was replaced with giggling. A thing the sparkling did a lot when it felt happy… By Primus, Arcee swore the world stopped still on its axis to hear her beautiful laughter emerging and filling the air with gorgeous sounds coming from deep her chest, composing what was her favorite song.

"Don't worry we're almost there." Arcee muttered to her sparkling and it merely giggled some more in reply.

Finally after some long groons, she lastly emerged from the vast metallic plain, and up ahead there was an orphanage. Arcee silently walked on over to the foster home, but as she came closer and closer, she found herself slowing down until she came to a complete halt.

She came to the realization that she was going to lose her daughter. And after fighting back the emotions for so long, she finally broke. She became a picture of grief, loss, devastation. It was a face of one who had suffered before and didn't know if she could do it again. Then, just when she thought the breakthrough would come and she would trust herself with her vulnerability, the shutters would come down, her emotion walled off behind a mask of coping. She could yet again just wear it until everything was right again, she didn't know another way.

But that didn't stop her. With difficulty, the femme walked up to the doorstep and gently laid her daughter onto the solid grey stone. She cuddled up against the sparkling, she unclothed the blanket she was wrapped, revealing her silver wings. She gingerly kissed her on the cheek and achingly mumbled, "Goodbye, Bluewing. Please, live a long and happy life. M-maybe one day we'll see each other again… But, until that time comes this is goodbye…"

As she held her, Arcee started to became uncertain of choices. Every time the uncertainty sunk in, she tried to convince herself that she had to do this. She had to and there simply was no other way. Of course, she could run away with the sparkling, but she would eventually be found out. She needed to do this and no one could know regarding her, especially the sire.

Shaking off the feeling. She grabbed a note and placed it next to the sparkling and tucked her back into the fabric.

Suddenly, she felt something wet scroll down her cheek. She looked up to the sky, seeing if it was raining. It wasn't, instead she realized that it was her tears.

She bite her tongue, trying to hold the tears that threatened to leave her optics. A small whimper was made and she turned to gaze at her sparkling. And that's when she couldn't hold them back. First one small crystal bead escaped from her right optic. She felt the warmth, sliding down her cheek, rolling off her chin. Then another. And another until her optics became flooded with them, coming like a rainfall. Sniffing every ten nano-kliks, they fall, and fall, and she let them.

Mustering all of her strength, she got up and forced herself to leave. Assuredly, Arcee didn't want to give up the sparkling. She didn't yearn for this, she wanted to go back and grab her daughter and raise her herself. However, she had to believe that she would be safe here, comfortable and warm. To look down would be to imagine her cold in a box, bereft of her cuddles and goodnight kisses.

Before she knew it, she was just a part of the crowd again, walking endlessly on a hidden road. This pain, this pain was on the edge of being unbearable, true pain and it broke her spark in two. While she walked, she almost had the nerve to turn around and start running back to the orphanage, but she didn't. She walked off into the darkness leaving her former life behind.

Back at the orphanage, Bluewing opened her large crimson optics, noticing something was amiss. It was a warm presence, a welcoming presence that had been ripped from her. She felt safe there, she felt at home. Now, that security was snatched away, and she didn't know why. She blinked up to the sky: her faceplate turning into a trembling frown, which soon became a scream that echoed throughout the area.

Suddenly, the door swung open and a femme stepped forward. She looked down to see a lone and wailing sparkling. She checked her surroundings to see if anyone was out there, but to her dismay she couldn't spot a single other cybertronian. Thus, she picked up the sparkling into her sevros and note, walked into the orphanage, closing the door behind her.

* * *

 _I hope it wasn't for OOC. Honestly, I've a really hard time picturing Arcee crying, seeing as she's a tough as nails gal. Despite that, It was pretty sad to write this, but at the same time fun._

 _But anyhow, I hoped you enjoyed it!_


	2. Chapter One

_I didn't think I'll get finished with this so soon. Well, don't expect this to become a regular occurrence. I'm usually an immensely slow writer so this is only than expectation… probably..._

 _I'm honestly not fond of this chapter. I find it sloppy and rather messy, but that's just me. Also I want to thank those you reviewed, favourite and followed, I really appreciate it. With that all said, on with the story!_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _I don't own anything other than the plot and OC's_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 **Getting Started**

* * *

"O-okay, breathe Bluewing. Breathe." The small femme told herself, taking deep breaths.

She always got anxious before a battle, even if it was her livelihood. It wasn't the tons of crowds that came to see cybertronains duke it out with each other that made her this way. She could handle peer pressure just fine. It was that she always never got to know who she was facing up against. Thus, she never got the chance to strike out a strategy concerning her opponent. Which in the end always left her guessing and somewhat helpless. And Primus knows, she hated feeling helpless.

But, Bluewing just sucked it up and walked out into the ring, where thousands awaited her.

As she emerged from the dimming dark and into the blazing light, the crowd went wild. She heard hundreds upon hundreds call out her name, awhile others hollered, and dare she say it, wolf-whistled.

"The flightless murderess!" The presenter announced her presence with using her stage name.

"It's winged murderess…" Bluewing corrected under her breath, as she continued to wave and smile at the crowd of cybertronains.

After some nano-kliks the cheering died down, and the announcer spoke up. "And her opponent for tonight, the mighty Head Crusher."

A large mech showed himself and the audience went nuts. They cheered for him twice as much as they did her.

As the referee told the rules, Bluewing took the time to observe her opponent. He certainty was large and bulky. He looked to be powerful and was seemed highly confident that he was going to win. Surely, a few swing of his punches would bury her into the ground. No, wonder the crowd favored him.

"Ready… Fight!" The referee shouted. The two fighters launched themselves at one another.

Head Crusher summoned his blaster and shoot at Bluewing.

She easily dodged his every attack. Running towards him, she leapt high into the air. Her arm blades emerging, she landed onto the mech himself, sending him tumbling to the ground.

When impacting the ground, a large cloud of dust rose. It engulfed both bots, blurring the audience's vision of them. They awaited eagerly for the dust to clear, but it wouldn't give in so simply. The sounds of metal against metal filled the atmosphere, joined with loud grunts and roars of battle.

Eventually, the silver Seeker came into the public eye, countering every punch Head Crusher threw at her with her blades. Again his agile movements were far too slow.

Growing frustrated, he yelled out in annoyance and summoned his blaster once more. Swiftly, Bluewing acrobatically flipped back as he shot away at her.

When landing on her pedes, she didn't heed the charging mech. Before she could even react, he slammed her into the dust. Nearly knocking the wind of her but not fully, spinning her fall into a roll concluded with her kneeling. Though Head Crusher was quick to make his next move, barely giving his opposing foe enough time to counter his assault. Grabbing his sevros, she kicked herself up and twisted around in midway, alighting on him

She ran up his arm and halted at face front. A devilish smirk spread across her lips as she grabbed him into a headlock. She punched him in the helm, making him lose his balance and sending a ringing through his head. But he recovered rapidly from tripping up, and gasped Bluewing by her arms. She struggled against him, trying to slip from his tight grip, however, fruitlessly failing. Servos moved from her arms, he seized her wings and tossed her across the arena.

The femme was slammed into the ground, falling flat on her face. From such an impact, pain ripped through her frame like a bullet. She coughed up some energon. She feebly rose up and moved an arm up to her lips, wiping the liquid from her mouth, she glanced up.

A bright blue glowing light was aimed at her, nearly blinding her, nevertheless was still able to outline the flash hurdling out of the cannon. Bluewing hurriedly scattered to her pedes and jumped out of the way. The blast sent her flying and harshly crashing into the ground once more, presuming knocking her out.

She weakly opened her optics. Her mind felt numb and a startling sting ached her side. It took her several kliks to register what was going on. Turning her head, she widened her eyes, Head Crusher basked in his _believed_ glory, while her arm in hand, raising it up like it was some kind of trophy. She looked down to her side, only to see that her entire arm had been blasted off.

Anger shoot through Bluewings system like gasoline to a fire. Her brows furrowed and her fists balled. She struggled to get up on her feet, but managed. She limbed across the arena, sharpening her talons as she advanced.

While she drew closer and closer, the roars of cheers languidly calmed down until it all went silent. All shocked to see her still standing. But the ignorant Head Crusher was entirely oblivious to the sudden absence of cheers.

Reaching him, Bluewing lightly tapped him on the side. He shifted only to be slashed with her claws, finishing him off.

The big bulk stumbled to the ground and Bluewing frowned. "I expected more." She snatched her detached arm from him.

She turned to the announcer, who was in utter shock just everyone else in the audience. Without another word to speak, she left the arena.

* * *

Bluewing was expecting his attention as soon as she set pedes into the hall. But even she didn't think the cursed mech would react so swiftly.

"For such a small thing, you sure do pack quite the punch." A voice said from behind her. She looked over her shoulder, regarding the aforementioned familiar looking right back at her.

"I see you lost your arm again." He remarked.

She didn't reply. She merely avoided him and continued on to her area, however, before she could even take a single step she was blocked by him.

"And, where do you think you are going? Can't you see I'm talking to you?"

"You're the only one who wants to talk, Holler. Now, get out of my way before I shred you to bits." She threatened with a hiss.

"Whoa! What's with the attitude all of a sudden?" He chuckled back.

Bluewing rolled her eyes, she was genuinely unimpressed. "I don't know. It couldn't perhaps have something to do with me losing my arm." She snarled, her voice leaking with sarcasm.

"You want me to get, Crux?" Holler asked.

"No, thanks. The last time that priston rod touched me he almost offlined me!"

"He was trying to help you." He commented.

She puffed, "Yeah, trying to help by getting me offlined!" She brushed pass him and walked down the hall, while he uninviting followed her. Reaching her room, she opened the door and turned, "I've someone else who can repair it for me."

"Oh, him. What was his name again… Lavy, Bravvy–"

"It's Savvy." Bluewing sternly affirmed, wings twitching in anger. She walked in towards her locker, placing her parted arm on a table nearby. As she organized her stuff, she asked, "Why are you even here? Here tell to me when my next battle is? Or do I've to wait a whole season, until I can get my weaponry dirty again?"

Holler tried to hold back a snicker, but was appointed unsuccessful. "You're being replaced, Bluewing."

The silver femme leered. "Being replaced. That's funny…"

Then everything went silent. The silence lingered on for far too long than Bluewing would've liked. She swayed, but too slowly to be normal. "You're serious?" When she spoke her voice trailed slowly, like her words were unwilling to take flight. There was sadness and fright in her optics, the crimson too glossy.

"Very." His mouth was upturned into a smile, which she found discomforting.

She was baffled. She fought, lost limbs and even almost offlined someone for this job. And after all of that, they were just going to toss her aside like she was garbage. She felt her temper raising to extreme levels, but did her hardest to remain calm and not try to scrap the mech, which was really tempting at the mere moment. She breathed deeply, trying to keep at ease. Finally, ceasing enough of the boiling rage within her, she spoke, "You can't replace me."

"We can and we have." He simply countered.

"But-but, I'm the best fighter you got." She argued. Her optics widened for a nano-cycle, before returning to her frowning façade. "Don't tell me, you already found someone to replace me?"

"Well, look who won the winning question." His smile grew all the more, "Indeed, we did find someone. Someone who's as good as you, if not better and _doesn't_ cost us a fortunate!"

"Is this why you are getting rid of me? Because I'm too expense?" She lingered. "If so, it's a really lousy reason. I only charge you one-hundred shanix each cyber-week."

"Actually, prices have been changing recently. Plus, you've begun to become sloppy." His smile took a rapid nosedive and his face looked like that of disgust. "That battle back there with Head Crusher was dreadful, especially for you. You finished him off by slashing him with those sharp claws of yours." He sighed and crossed his arms over his chestplate, "I don't know what's happening to you, Bluewing, but we aren't sticking around to see it."

Holler then turned and headed for the door. But he halted in his tracks midway, as if he'd forgotten something. He placed a pouch of money on the table where her arm laid and mumbled, "I'm sorry…" And with that he left.

Bluewing was completely still. She listened to every word Holler said, she wasn't deaf and she allowed it all to sink in. They rung in her mind loud and clear. She exhaled and looked up to the ceiling. "Could it get any worse?"

* * *

Bluewing slammed through the streets of town, sack slang over her shoulder. The city lights shone brightly in the dark, showing the path beforehand. Looking ahead, she saw the road was long and wide. She could almost imagine a flyer trying to land here, from above must've looked much like a runaway.

She gazed up to the sky and saw the stars. White stars like scattered embers of a dying fire winked down at her, illuminating the atramentous curtain sky.

Suddenly, she spotted something that stood out from the glistening stars. A flicker of silver raced across the heavens. Bluewing narrowed her eyes, making the figure out to be a jet. But, as quick as it came it was gone.

Seeing the jet, resurfaced some memories. She remembered when she was younger, when she was alone, no creators, no brother, no friends, she would sneak off and watch the Seekers fly or whatever they did. She thought they were amazing, how they soared through the sky with such grace and elegance. She always wanted to fly like them, like her creators, brother and friends. To soar above the clouds, to feel the cool air against her metallic body, to look down and view the beautiful landscapes Cybertron had to offer… But she just couldn't.

Sighing, her optics tore from the sky and down to the ground beneath her. Her wings flapped down, she dispiritingly carried on home.

Arriving there, she walked up to the door and grabbed ahold of its knob. She twisted it sideways and pulled the door towards her, opening it, or that was what she expecting to happen. Instead it didn't open.

"What the?" She said surprised. She tried twisting and tugging on the doorknob again and again, but the door just wouldn't budge.

Losing her sense of calm, Bluewing pounded on the door and demanded to be let in. "Hitch, I know you're in there. Open up!" She cried.

She continued to pound on the door, until a click was heard. Bluewing slowly backed up and soon enough the door opened and shut, its creaking noise bringing a chill down her spine.

A yellow-and-white femme appeared before her. Her icy optics were narrowed and held a lake of frozen emotions that seemed really to burst any moment.

"What is it, Bluewing? If you don't mind, I'm kind of in the middle of finding a new roommate."

Bluewing blinked, confused. "What do you mean new roommate? I live here with you! Or did you somehow forget that?"

She ignored her question. "Do you have the money for the rent?"

The former fighter stiffened. "Well… not actually…" the words fell from her lips like little pebbles onto sand.

Hitch twitched, growing impatient. "How much you got?"

Bluewing grabbed the pouch of money Holler gave her earlier for her winning against Head Crusher and handed it over to Hitch. She took the money and pulled a gold coin out of the bag, observing it.

"I've seventy-five shanix. They cut it short again." Bluewing said.

Hitch looked at Bluewing, maintaining the same emotionless face. And without warning, she threw the money to the ground alarming the winged femme.

"Bye, Bluewing." She turned, leaving for the door.

"Wait, wait! I may be able to pay the rent. How much you want?" Bluewing begged, as limply picked up the spread shanix from the ground.

Hitch rubbed her temples in aggravation and muttered words to herself, trying madly to remain calm. She tiled her head to the side and roughly stated, "Four-hundred."

Bluewing wings fluttered downwards. "Are you for real? It was two-hundred yesterday! Why double it?"

"Prices are changing, Blue."

"Yeah, yeah I know." Bluewing complained. "I lost an arm today. Can you let it slip by this once?"

After holding her true feelings in for too long, Hitch finally exploded. "I've been letting this slip by for orbital cycles!" She bellowed. She paused for a moment to ease herself before saying, "I'm sorry, but you going to have to find another place to sleep for tonight."

Bluewing sighed, realizing her defeat. She glanced upwards, "Can I at least gather my stuff?"

"No!" Hitch uttered. She shifted and walked for the door. Slamming it closed shut behind her and locking it.

Bluewing silently watched Hitch's episode. She wanted to scream out and breakdown the door. But she was beat. She lost an arm, got fired from her job and ultimately, kicked out of her home. She didn't have the energy and patience to do anything folly.

Thus she coolly slumped up and continued down the nightly road.

* * *

The bar was quiet. Everything was set in place, where it should be. The only bot around was the bartender himself. Earlier the bar was hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing against the noisy music that dominated the atmosphere. The crowd was young, students from the academy for the most part. But eventually everything had to fade in due time, and to the bartenders relief everyone left in the nick of time. Now, he could relax in the stillness.

Out of the blue, a knock came from the door. The bartender groaned and merely ignored them. But they wouldn't give in. The knock was louder and faster this time. "Let me in, Savvy. I know you're in there." A most familiar voice came from the other side, one that Savvy couldn't pass off.

The grey mech groaned, placing down the glass he was cleaning. He moved from the bar and flung the door open. Spotting a certain silver and blue femme. "Tell me, Bluewing. Why are you really here?"

"What. Can't I just visit an old friend?" She cheekily smiled and walked in without regard of his permission.

Taking a seat, she looked to her comrade, who shook his helm in plain disbelief and accompanied her at the counter. She stared at him and he gave a look in return that oozed with the question, "really?"

The femmes smile dropped to a frown and she groaned in loss. "Fine." She grabbed something out of her sack and lifted it up for him to see.

"Wait, you lost it again!?" He cried in pure shock.

"No, that was left arm, Savvy. This my right." She wryly stated.

"Was that dry wit I heard?" He questioned, optics narrowing.

Bluewing had to hold in a laugh. "Of course not."

Savvy rolled his eyes and began observing her condition. After some nano-kliks, he spoke up, "I can fix it. But I advise you to not jump headfirst into battle after some solar cycles. Unless you want it to fall right off." He grabbed a few tools and began adjusting her arm to her frame.

"No can do, I was fired."

"Huh-uh, and what else happened?" He asked, not genuinely surprised by her answer.

"I was kicked out of my own home."

"Rough."

Completing refastening her arm, Savvy moved from Bluewing and smiled. "There. That problems fixed."

Bluewing slowly lifted her arm from the metallic surface and carefully moved it around to see if it was functional. To her relief, her limb thoroughly obeyed every motion she made. Though she could still feel the striking sting from before.

However the pleasantry was short-lived, when the reality of her situation struck her. She muttered, "That still doesn't undo my financial trouble."

"Why don't you sale those pretty wings of yours? You could get quite the earning for them."

Suddenly, her optics doubled in size and her mouth gaped open. She looked at him in alarm, if not horror. "You're joking?!"

He shook his helm, declaring his answer as no.

"I maybe can't fly but I still need my wings. If I lose them, I'll stuffer even more from my medical condition. Plus, it'll probably hurt like the pit." She declared. She may have had her arm detached from her body several times. But her arm was one thing, her wings were a completely other story. Even if she couldn't fly, a Seekers wings were the most valued and delicate part of their frame.

"Not my problem that you were born without a T-cog." He paused. Grasping, what he'd said. He looked to his friend and asked out of concern, "Blue, you all right?"

There was a gloomy and blue look within her crimson optics. Was it sadness? Behind the masked grim line on her face, there was sadness and grief. He wasn't not used to it, it unnerved him. He wanted her to give freely like she always did but she wouldn't. It was like she just crawled right back inside some invisible shell and no matter how hard he tried she was unreachable. She moved her optics more slowly, like they were heavy, an effect to move. He wanted to crack his usual jokes but he knew she wouldn't laugh. He stood right next to her but she might as well have been on the moon.

"Blue?"

Knocking out of her daze, the femme glanced to Savvy and replied, "H-hmm yeah… I'm perfectly fine." She heeded him staring at her, he didn't believe her.

"Did you take your medicine today?"

"No, the piece of tin kicked me out before I could grab anything." She lowly grumbled.

"I guess I'll have a look in the back then." Savvy said, leaving the bar and Bluewing by herself.

She suggested to relax until something caught her optic. She curiously stood up and strolled to the wall of posters. She looked over them all, trying desperately to find the one that she'd saw earlier.

She observed it. It was nothing really that special, simpler than anything. It'd the Autobot symbol on it with the word heeding; "Recruits?"

She reached out to grab the poster, to get a closer look, but halted when Savvy came barging in.

Bluewing walked from the wall of posters and returned to her seat at the bar counter. She quietly watched as he expelled the liquid into the syringe and injected her with it. Finishing, he removed the needle from her and placed it down. "That should about sustain your _mood_ for a while."

She nodded in acknowledgment. Interestingly, she looked back to the poster from before and asked, "Hey, Savvy when did you get the poster?"

The mech looked at femme, and eyed the thing that stood past her. "Oh, that thing. Don't know, some 'bot came over yesterday. Asked if they could hang it up and left without a word. Why do you ask?"

Bluewing shrugged, "I'm just curious as to why would they be asking for recruits? The war ended stellar cycles ago."

"It could because of the Decepticon uprising?" Savvy plainly answered.

The silver robot lingered, her curiosity growing all the more. "Uprising?"

"Well, aren't you full of questions." The mech said with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Bluewing couldn't blame him if he was slightly irritated. She always asked questions like these to satisfy her unending inquisitiveness. "Yes, the Decepticon uprising haven't you heard of it?"

"No." She shook her helm.

"Okay, fine. So, here's all laydown." Savvy began. "You know Starscream right?" She nodded. "Good. Unexpectedly, the Seeker has been gaining quite the following lately. The High Council didn't think too much of it at first, seeing as everything always crumbled under Starscreams leadership. But to everyone's surprise, he has been thriving more than anything. Accordingly, the Autobots are trying to put down the revolt, but because the High Council largely blames Optimus Prime's and his team for the ruination of Cybertron, they endeavored to bury Optimus's legacy and push the former members of his team into obscurity. Hence, the Autobots are vastly scattered. I hear some of them are on earth. Awhile only a handle are still on Cybertron, namely being Commander Arcee and Supreme Commander Ultra Magnus. Thus, they started asking for recruits. But it's still not as easy to get in."

"You need to at least be physically competent and know your way around a battlefield." He added.

"Right..." Bluewing muttered, scratching her chin.

Savvy looked at the flightless winged femme. When he saw her lips turn upward he feared for the worst. She faced him and lifted a brow. She didn't say anything, she didn't need to because he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"You can't be serious?" He said, hesitantly, terrified at what she was going to say.

"Indeed, I am," She proclaimed.

He crossed his arms over his chestplate and huffed. "The day you join the Autobots is the day I finally decide to become a medical officer."

She smirked, "Well pack your medical kit, Savvy. Because we're going on a trip." With that she walked from Savvy, leaving him just to say:

"What have I ever done to deserve this."


	3. Chapter Two

**First Day**

* * *

"You, recruit! What's your name?"

Instructor Ironhide, arms folded behind his back, glowered relentlessly down at the younger mech before him.

"M-me? I'm S-mite, sir!"

"Stand up straight! Didn't your creators teach you how to stand properly?" Ironhide bellowed, his sonorous voice blasting across the wide, metallic field. "Put your legs fragging together, straighten up your back, and hold up your helm, you piece of tin!"

The meek youngster gulped down the lump lodged deep within his throat.

"Y-yes, sir!"

Beads of oil sweat drops rolled down his faceplate, his optics wide and dental plates chattering as he rushed to amend his posture. He stiffly raised his helm, all the while shuddering as if someone had seized his shoulder by force and had shaken him with all their might. Bluewing titled her helm to the side, keenly watching him from where she stood, unaffected by the fear that seemed to spread like wildfire through the others recruits.

"Where are you from?! Huh? Tell me, scrap metal!" The mech boomed, dental gnarled and his brows tapered. The youngster yelped like an abused cyber-puppy, fright encompassing his rounded features as he struggled to retain his composure.

He would do no good.

Eventually, her interest in watching Instructor Ironhide reducing the weaklings to a mound of dust became close to nothing and she found her optics drifting along the faces in the crowds for… anything really. Some, she could tell, went through the same things that she had. The trauma was reflected in their optics, whether or not they showed it in their facial expressions. Most shared that same helplessness as Smite, the one that had prompted them to come here because they wanted to be safe from the clutches of ruthless Decepticons.

 _Hopeless causes._ That's what she labeled them.

She looked to her side, sad to see Savvy wasn't beside her. He was back in Iacon, learning how to become a medical officer. She recalled before parting ways, he promised to meet her again on the battlefield when she'd lost another limb, he'd come running to repair it, like he always did.

But she didn't want to meet him on the battlefield. She wanted him right here, right beside her. Even though, this was her first day on camp, she still felt out of place. Everyone here were Grounders, though there were a few exceptions, there were some flyers but they were deviant compared to everyone else.

She let out a hefty sigh and gazed up to the sky.

The harsh sun beat savagely down upon them – those who had their backs facing the sun were fortunate enough to have the prospect of only feeling the scorching heat along the back of their necks, whereas the other half of them would've to deal with the painful aftermath of feeling melted tonight when they got into the oil baths. However, though the heat was difficult to tolerate, she didn't permit it to push her into submission, holding her chin up high and allowing her focus to resettle straight ahead of me as it had before.

The instructor, with his yesterday's model, finally had reached her row and began to shout into the faces of those lined before her. The dark circles begirding his fierce optics bore right into the souls of the weak, serving as another means of intimidating them as if his berating wasn't enough already. He gradually advanced his way through the line before reaching the femme a couple between bots her. She was a petite one around seventeen meters with orange paint that commented her deathly pale, terror-stricken face. She was as white as a sheet, her limbs quivering in the most inhuman way possible. It was as if Bluewing could crush her with just a single touch.

"Name!" the instructor snarled, showing no hint of mercy as he stared down the pitiful femme.

The femme flinched, unable to meet his could gaze. "I'm… I-I'm…"

"Are you a slanging mute? I asked you for your name!" Ironhide roared. "Or are you ignoring me?"

The terrestrial Seeker hardly bat an optic as the poor femme was subjugated by the instructor a few meters away from her – he screamed at her, disparaging her until she gave him the answers he was looking for. She was left horrified as Ironhide coolly sauntered away from her. She wouldn't last a single second on the battlefield.

As he came into her line, Bluewing quickly steeled herself, preparing herself for his commanding shouts.

But they never came. Instead of interrogating her like he had the rest of them, he took a good look at her. He stood frozen, his optics wide and mouth gaping in disbelief. It was like if he'd seen a ghost. He stared at her at what felt like an eternity, while with each passing nano-cycle growing all the more discomforting.

Confused, she was going to question as to why he was looking at in such a particular way. However, as soon as he came he was gone, he moved on to the shout at a younger mech at her right. He was a few stellar cycles older than most of them there but with the will and spirit of a sparkling. He wouldn't do, not with that kind of childish mentality…

* * *

A few groons later and Bluewing was in the shower, washing off the dirt from the day with a bunch of other femmes from the camp. She looked herself in the mirror and saw that she hadn't been burned at all by the sun, even though she'd stood there in the grilling heat for groons. She lightly touched a servos to her faceplate, she stared right into her reflection. A scar was slashed across the middle of her back, about the length of her forearm, with several smaller barely visible scattered around, some on her legs, some on her arms. It was strikingly clear the ordeals she went through the stellar cycles.

A few femmes whispered and stared as they left the showers, allowing waiting femmes to come in. With their cold stares, it dampened her spirits. She rinsed her helm, letting the warm oil to run over the gradually-disappearing scars, healing them with its comfort before stepping of the shower and into the drying vents. The rush of hot air burned away her thoughts of doubts.

The dining hall was jam-packed with the small amount of trainees who didn't drop out, which was naturally only a small fraction of the original crowd. She merely grabbed a drink of energon before searching for a place to sit. Femmes hushed as she passed by and mechs stopped what they were doing to stare at her as she sat herself in the back at a table. Reclusive and in an unfamiliar setting with a bunch of faces she didn't know, she preferred to sit alone and make her own observations.

However, before she could even begin to assess those around her, someone put their cup directly across from hers and sat down with a dull thud. Lifting her helm, she watched the mech through curious eyes, slightly surprised someone had dared to trespass into the territory she'd claimed for her own. The mech was about her age, with bright, striking optics and a shining auburn finish. For a moment, she'd felt as if she had known him from somewhere before. Her shock had been quickly replaced with hostility when he looked at her, hoping he would be intimidated and run off to sit somewhere else. To her disbelief, he didn't budge even in the slightest under her unrelenting stare and met her gaze with solid blue irises. The instant their eyes met, she knew he was different from the others here – something in his eyes set him apart from everyone else.

"I'm Bluewing though everyone usually just calls me Blue," She introduced herself, examining his features with piqued interest.

The mech grinned, "Oh, I know who you are. You're the Flightless Murderess."

"It's the _Winged_ Muderess…" Bluewing grumbled through gritted denta.

"I'm Rush. Tell me, what's a semi-famous battler of the arena doing in a place like this?"

She paused, looking for a response, then it hint her. She puffed, "Answers." She found herself smiling lightly to herself. His friends entered the scene, a mech with a dark blue paintjob and mysterious purple optics, and the other a femme with a sleek white frame that envied her own. Rush nodded his head at the Seeker, silently bidding her goodbye as he moved to follow after them.

She was left to enjoy her solitude, watching from afar as Rush bombarded with flocks of trainees, eager to his tales. She drank her enegron, listening silently to what he had to say. Apparently, he had borne quite the experience of being an eyewitness to many extraordinary adventures. He was bombarded by questions of all kinds and from all directions, the crowd perpetually unsatisfied with Rush's vague replies. Bluewing was grateful she hadn't let it slip to everyone else about who she was, she was certain they would do the same to her.

"Like I said, I was there, saw the whole thing with my own two optics." Rush said.

"What!?"

"Really?"

"What about the Predaking?"

"Yeah! How big is it?"

"Big enough to the quake the ground when it lands." Rush answered. He spoke on and on about his adventures.

At the start, Rush took on the questions with ease, feeding the curious crowd with his short-cut, simple answers, until one of them asked him regarding Optimus Prime and the Decepticons. He suddenly tensed clamping his hand over his mouth, abruptly falling silent- As everybody gawked at him in anticipation, the femme took notice of Rush and immediately took action.

"Let's stop with the questions, guys, I'm sure there are memories he doesn't want to bring back," She announced. A mech kneeling by the tableside, optics round in an emotion akin to awe, hastily apologized.

"Sorry, about all the quest-"

"That's not it," Rush spoke. Grabbing his drink, he took a sip to soothe the sickness swirling around his gut. "Decepticons are just a bunch of strutless cowards! As long as I'm around they won't stand a chance! I've finally become a trainee. I… I just got too excited is all."

Everyone relaxed a little and awaited for the mech to continue his train of thought. Bluewing picked up her empty glass and walked out of the room, standing outside the door and permitting herself to get some fresh air. She could still hear Rush, even outside. She shook her side to side and drily chuckled, that mech didn't know how to shut up did he.

"I'm going to join the Autobots and exterminate every last Decepticon." Rush remarked, solidity and determination lathered into his firm voice. A symphony of gasps broke out into the others as they pressed him for even more details to satiate their never-ending curiosity.

Awhile with Bluewing her optics drifted to the horizon, the fiery, golden orb beginning it's descend into a deep slumber, its magnificent rays of light lulled. The darkness of the night won once again and emerging like a victorious king ascending up his throne.

Looking the breathtaking view, the silver femme thought back to earlier. Why did the Instructor stare at her in such suspicion? Was it because she was a Seeker? It would be perfectly understandable if that was reason, however, Bluewing couldn't help but think it was something else entirely. She had never been stared at like that since… since…

Reminiscing of the ordeal, with images of spilt energon and tearing flesh and metal flashed through her processor, the blood-curdling screams from That Cycle resonated through her audio, she clutched her stomach and fought the urge to gag.

The painful memories seeped through her processor. Woefully, she remembered everything from the sun rising and up in till…

 _"You'll never be one of us…" They uttered as they traced a claw over her blue crest, their voice nothing but a husky whisper. "You may have the royal crown jewel just like her, but you'll never pursue the true meaning behind it!"_

The words rung heavy, haunting her. Ever till this cycle, she couldn't get them out of her head.

She heaved a sigh, and forced the memory back into the back of her processor. She descended from the porch and slowly made her back to her cabin. She needed some recharge.


	4. Chapter Three

**_Disclaimer:_** _I own nothing other than the plot and OC's._

* * *

 **New Friends**

* * *

Shooting practice started the next cycle. Each and every bot was given a temporary gun to shoot with. Bluewing struggled much with shooting, missing her target every _slagging_ time. She was awful at aiming, that's why she always preferred close-range weapons like her arm blades or talons.

Locking on target, she pulled the trigger and allowed the bullet to fly. It steered only a few feet away from where it was supposed to land. She groaned in frustration.

"I thought all Seekers had keen optical sensors. You know, for seeing where to land and locking on to their targets in midair." Rush said with an arrogant smirk plastered across his faceplate.

Bluewing's scowl deepened. "Well, I'm not like all Seekers." She aimed one more, and then shot. Apparently, the blast landed right on the target. Her lips lifted upward, forming a gleeful grin. She shifted to Rush, he merely shrugged her off.

She watched him for bit, seeing him excel at every shot. There was no shooting that showed damage of any kind: it was absolute perfection right down to his very movements. She was jealous of his handiness, but she didn't allow her jealousy to get the best her.

The two continued to practice until they were finally called out. Amazed at his skill, the others waiting in line after them watched as he received praise from Ironhide himself, who offered laudatory commentary as he walked back into the crowd. A few femmes and mechs gathered around him, asking him how he managed to get every shot right.

"It's all in here," He'd said, and tapped on his helm. He told them all about positioning, aiming and so forth. They took the advice to spark and tried it a couple of times before getting the hang of it.

Bluewing didn't talk much to the other trainees; they had all created their own little groups. She didn't exactly want to get too close to anybody anyway. Rush, however, perked her interest – he was arrogant and idealistic, but seemed to ace at nearly everything. Traits like those would often repulse her, but somehow she found herself intrigued by him, especially with his anger and desire to draw the Decepticons to their extinction.

She hadn't really spoken to him since cycle one, but they had developed a slight rivalry, trying to best each other in silly competitions like who can drink their energon faster. She wouldn't call him a friend, nevertheless he was the only one she ever took interest in introducing herself to. Everyone else had introduced themselves to her somewhere along the way, or she had somehow learned their names from others. All expect for one…

She was finished in the oil baths and was ready to call it a night, when until she couldn't find her medication. Panic registered her faceplate as she searched for it.

 _"By all Allspark! Where is it?"_ She thought as she looked under her berth. Then the realization hit her, remembering she had probably left it back in the dining hall.

Venting a hefty sigh, she slipped from under the bunk and quietly tip-toed outside, careful not to wake anybody up. She poked her head out to make sure no one was bout and to her luck, she saw no bot in sight. By this time, everyone was in their berth or hanging in their cabin gossiping to one another, counting the mechs.

She peeped one pede out, setting her ground before dashing out, the icy wind slapping her face and nipping her armor as she hurried through the back of buildings, dodging under windows and undertaking stealthy approaches to get to her destination as swiftly as possible.

Arriving at the dining hall, she saw that some of the lights were on. Which alarmed her at first, but when she snooped inside surprisingly no one was around.

"How odd…" She mumbled, stepping inside the small building. She made her way to where she had sat earlier, expecting to find it there. However to her disappoint, she spotted nothing.

 _"I could've swore that I left it here… Should've been my processor playing tricks on me again."_ Exhaling in annoyance, she turned. She nearly jumped out of her armor when she saw a tentacle holding out her medication to her.

She glanced up, remarking those inexplicable purple optics she had seen so many times prior. He stood a couple of feet away from her, his slim and dark figure well intact. She stared at him, taking in all his… pointiness.

Snapping out of her daze, she drew back her attention to the matter at servo. She grabbed the syringe from him and looked back up to meet his gaze. "Hmm… thank you?" she awkwardly said, becoming uncomfortable under his fastened stare.

Everything went still. Nothing moved, was heard or anything. Bluewing twitched under the gnawing silence, waiting for the mech to do something!

Finally, he nodded in response, his tentacle returning to its port. He turned for the door, looking back for a split nano-klik before leaving. The seeker thought she saw a smirk, but decided to not focus on it as she was just happy to get her medication back.

* * *

After a cyber-week, Ironhide had sent them out to the field for combat practice and following that, he had everyone run laps around the whole camp until they were worn out. Even after all of that the cycle still wasn't over. They were also introduced to something that Bluewing could conquer with relative ease – hand-to-hand combat.

Everyone stood in a vertical line awaiting for name to be called, eager to know who they would be partnered with.

"Hymn and Powerdash!"

Bluewing watched as the femme beside her wander from the line and out to the field to meet the mech she was going up against. With no moment to spare, they immediately launched themselves at one another.

One by one, everyone followed after them and proceeded to the training grounds.

"Jitterbug and Bluewing."

The Seeker stepped forward and advanced to the field, her opponent not far behind her. When she turned to face the mech, her optics widened.

She was surprised to the see the mech from before. He was lean, though not small when compared other to mechs. He sported stifle-jointed legs, and his arms along with his claws were very thin. Focusing on his arms, he could easily counter her attacks. Truth be told, she couldn't detect a single flaw with his frame or posture. To add to it this was a hand-to-hand combat battle, thus, no weaponry or outside help was allowed. But no worries, Bluewing was confident in her skills and was fairly sure this battle would be over in a matter of nano-kliks.

The femme made the first move, charging herself at her opponent. Awhile Jitterbug remained motionless, not moving a single cable as she neared.

She pitched a punch, but he merely side stepped, avoiding her attack. She twisted around and kicked at his legs. He grabbed her limb and hurled her across the field. In mid-air she tucked her body into a flip and landed solidly onto her pedes.

She glared up at him. This would be tougher than she thought.

Recollecting her memories from the arena. She remembered the rules they would always layout before a match, notably rule six: _don't_ underestimate your opponent. They were practically burned into her processor, she could thank Holler for that. So, how could she forget them at a time like this?

She growled. If she could only summon her arm-blades.

She threw herself at the mech, unsheathing her claws. He counted her strike with his arms but she brushed it aside with her talons. Jitterbug registered the next thrust would be to his chest, so he rapidly moved to the side and lifted his arm. Bluewing's claws glanced off the metal armor. He quietly hissed in pain at the pierce, but proceeded with plunging his arm down, locking her arm between his limb and body.

She jerked from under his tight grip, futilely trying to get free. He backhanded her and she was helplessly tossed to the ground.

She crashed to the floor. She tried pulling herself to get up, but was pushed back down by the foot of her enemy.

"Gah!"

"Yield." The word slicked from his mouth, his voice deep and commanding. He leaned slightly forwards, placing more pressure on his pede, and sinking the Seeker deeper into the ground.

She grunted. Awhile he wasn't noticing, she sneakily grabbed his leg and threw him off of her. She rolled to her pedes and flung herself at him, slamming her helm into his. He faltered backwards at the sudden impact, but immediately retained his balance.

In her triumph, Bluewing smirked. "I don't think so."

Slowly, his grimace formed into a sly smirk. He was impressed by her skill or it could be the complete opposite. Nonetheless she decided to take it as a comment rather than anything else.

They carried on with their battle, but eventually, she was the one found lying in the dirt.

Later on, everyone went to the dining hall to refuel on energon, all expected for Bluewing. After such a battle, she had lost her appetite. It wasn't a rare aspect, she always lost her hungriness after a rough fight.

She sauntered back to her cabin. Reaching the building, she lazily flopped herself onto the steps, ignoring her aching joints. A stellar cycle ago she would've beaten that four-legger into the ground. "Maybe I am getting sloppy…"

"Hey, Blue!"

She glanced up to see a certain large auburn mech standing before her, his two friends, Hymn and Jitterbug, not too far behind.

"We're thinking about heading to the chasm tonight. Care to join?" Rush asked, reaching out his servo to her.

She froze, unsure on how to react. She blankly stared at him. Her crimson orbs trailed down to his servo.

Did he know what he was provoking?

Her optics wandered to Hymn and Jitterbug. The femme was smiling sweetly at her, hoping dearly she'll say yes. While Jitterbug was just staring at her. Maybe it was because she too tried or simply had nothing better to do or something else entirely, she replied with an empty laugh, "Sure, why not." She placed her hand in his.

"Glad to hear it." He warmheartedly chuckled, pulling her up to his level.

Thankfully, everyone was deep in recharge and old Ironhide was snoring away in his lodge, when they left camp and met one another at the chasm, which was twenty away kliks on foot. Hymn and Jitterbug were the first one there, second Bluewing and finally Rush. It was a full moon tonight and the shining moonlight clashed with the bottomless neon-lit chasm brilliantly. They were shrouded in a mystic white light as Bluewing seated herself upon a boulder beside Hymn.

She was a pretty femme, especially with the moonlight glistening off her glimmering white paintjob and gorgeous cyan optics. She scooted closer to the Seeker, she was so close that Bluewing could feel the heat coming from her. "I saw you fighting, Jitter earlier."

Bluewing was so distracted by her closeness that she nearly didn't catch what she said. "Y-you did?" She peeped, her face growing blue.

She nodded, "You were quite impressive. Came closest to I ever saw him being beating." That made the silver female smile, at least she had something to be content about.

"Yeah, well you don't learn just anything in the arena." Bluewing looked to the dark mech, who creepily was staring right back at her. His stare sent a shiver down her spine like a careful spider leaving a trail of silk. Had he been looking her at this whole time? "He's not much of a talker is he?"

"Who, Jitter?" Hymn asked and Bluewing nodded. "Oh, no he's quite talkative."

Bluewing paused, allowing the awkwardness to sink in. "Eh, right…"

Turning, she looked to Rush and asked, "So, why'd you call me out here? Took long enough to get here, too."

"Sorry," He laughed. "I thought we could spend some time together. To get to know one another."

"We've been spending time together for quite some time now. Or have you forgotten?"

"Throwing energon cubes at each other isn't actual relationship-building." He conversed. She rolled her optics.

"So, what are your guy's reasons for joining the Autobots?" She asked, hoping she didn't sound too sudden or too nosy.

Hymn started. "Well, I joined to look after these troublesome mechs. Primus knows, someone has to look after them after–"

"–Hymn." Jitterbug sternly cut in, stopping her in midsentence.

She blinked a bit dazed by her friend before realizing what she almost did. "Hehe, pardon me," she meekly laughed.

Bluewing looked between the two cybertronians, confused.

"Ahem!" Rush cleared his throat, attracting her attention.

"Anyhow, I merely joined to kick some 'con tailpipe." He said through a cheeky smile. She stared at him, unblinking before looking to Jitterbug.

"Likewise." He plainly uttered.

"Why you did sign on to the Autobots?" Rush questioned.

"What?" Bluewing chirruped.

"You heard what I said."

Her optic ridges furrowed. "Didn't I already tell you?"

"Do you really think I'll fall for something like that?"

She laughed, but the laughter immediately faded. "Honestly, I do why I'm here…" She said flatly. At first she decided to join just to earn some money, but over the course of time, she founded herself questioning her reasons for being here instead of exactly knowing why.

"You got kicked from the ring?"

She breathed, "More or less." Standing up, she walked closer to the edge of the chasm. She glanced down at the bright light, seeing if it was truly bottomless, then out to the center of the sky where the moon sat, beautiful and proud. Her sigh came out in a display of a puff of vapor before dispersing into the nightly air. For a while, there was no sound but that of the bitter whispering wind.

But that silence broke when Hymn inhaled suddenly in astonishment. "That's one nasty looking scar." She remarked. "If you wish, can mend it for you dearie."

Bluewing tensed. Unlike her other scars that could only be seen after taking a bath, the scar on her back was always visible to the optic. "No, it's been there are a while. It remains as a reminder not to stray away from my goals." She told them.

"We all have our scars, even if we hate to admit it." Rush stood up and walked to Bluewings side. He offered her a smile, placing his servos on her shoulder.

Gazing up at him, the corners of her mouth lifted up into a smile, then into a brilliant grin. She'll get along with them just fine.

The four of them spend a little while longer hanging out and chatting by the chasm before heading back together. They couldn't all return at once, and waited at the edge of camp, allowing one person at a time to get back to their cabins. First it was Hymn, then Rush, leaving Jitterbug and Bluewing alone together behind the rocky wall.

"Well, goodnight," She said and sauntered off back to her cabin. She headed up the steps to the door and lifted up her servos to grab the handle. Before she could get inside, she was taken by surprise when Jitterbug came after her, slamming her against the door of the lodge, the thump her body made loud enough to wake up everyone inside.

"Jitterbug! Are you mad?!" She growled, glaring up at him. "What the pit has gotten into you?"

"Stay close." The sheer intensity of his gaze tore through her very soul. He let her loose and strolled away just as quietly and soundly as that other night.

Bluewing remained there standing entirely baffled. Collecting herself before she walked inside. As she entered the room, she was greeted with the murmurs of femmes who had seen the whole thing, of the exchange between her and Jitterbug.

An unsure frown played upon her lips as she climbed into the berth and closed her crimson optics.


End file.
